Davy's Dove
by Delillium
Summary: Teague has set a curse on his blood line by making a deal with Davy Jones' remnants. Jack is sent on the mission, by his abusive grandmother, to stop the curse. The curse brings on an incurable illness, and the adventure brings on bad memories, but Jack must find his broken father with the help of Elizabeth, Will, and the crew, to save his life. But why is Barbosa interested?
1. A Family Meeting

**1**

* * *

A young Jack held the helm in his hands tight, as though it were about to fall into the seas, He was watching the flashing lights ominously dangle in his view. Shipwreck Cove. His mouth went dry and the scene was slowly changing. _  
_

He quirked one eyebrow and watched as the lights swirled into a single glint of light off of a red jewel that was set in a set of false teeth. The wheel vanished from his fingers and he reached out, trying to grasp something that simply wasn't there.

The false teeth grew an owner and her beady eyes were steadfast, glaring into his.

"Gran-"

"Bad! You've been a bad boy, Jackie!"

"No, Grandmama, I promise. I promise I wasn't trying to do anything! Please don't-"

She grabbed the back of his head and put her hand on the wall in front of her, she pulled his head back as he begun to wiggle and cry. "No! No!"

She forced it forward into the set of iron bars.

He choked and his hand went instinctively to his newly broken nose, but she brought it forward again, this time though, his hands were being slammed against the iron.

His fingers now cracked and rust stained, he was thrown back against the wall, where he curled into himself, gasping for air in unison with his grandmother.

"Think about what you done."

And she locked the gate behind her, following up the stairs with the keys jingling against her hip.

He snapped his eyes shut against the pain and took in a gasp of the humid air, opening his eyes again, it was the next morning, and the first few rays of light hit the soggy wooden floorboards.

He shakily got to his feet, and put his head against the thick metal frame surrounding the port hole. He looked out on the starry morning, and he watched the horizon begin to fill with color, feeling in his pocket for the small trinket he knew would be there.

He brought out the pocket-watch and held it in his hand firmly, bringing it to his eyes, he pressed the button which released it and read the inscribed words at the top, '_When you need me most, look to the horizon.'_

He swallowed, tears crawling down his swollen bruised cheeks, and finally turned away, "You're never there."

* * *

Jack woke with a start, and his map stuck to his face. He released a gasp and slowly begun to pull off the parchment, he looked around his cabin as if to make sure nothing had drastically changed in his sleep, and once satisfied, he brought a bottle to his lips, took a swig, and exited the cabin. His entire crew, was already active, including, surprisingly, Gibbs who was holding on tight to the wheel.

Jack made eye contact with him and Gibbs nodded once with a small grin forming on his wry lips. He lifted his hands off the wheel and said a few words to Will who, with a proud sort of hidden smile, took the helm without hesitation.

Jack looked slightly wary of his choice but shrugged it off, how much trouble could he get the Pearl in, out in open waters? It'd only be for a minute after all.

Jack looked over the side of the ship, his eyes tracing the movements of fish skimming the top of the clear waters. The sun was hot, and the water was enticing. He couldn't remember the last time he swam and he was getting anxious just looking at it now.

"We'll be making it by tonight."

"Mm." He responded sourly.

"Have any ideas about what's it's all about?" Gibbs waited patiently, leaning over the railing beside him with an ear cocked towards him.

His eyes were as sharp as ever, catching every nervous tremor in Jack's mustache, and every movement of his fixated eyes.

"Not at all."

He responded, and obviously attempting to avoid the conversation, begun to unbutton his shirt. Gibbs watched with curious eyes as he made his way down each button carefully, not taking a second to remove his eyes from the tumultuous seas.

"Cap'n..?"

About half-way down, he encountered his vest, belts and sashes, which he quickly removed as well, dropping his guns and magical compass to the floor with a thud. He unbuttoned his vest the rest of the way and once he finished unbuttoning his shirt, slid the vest and shirt off at the same time.

He then leaned against the rail and proceeded to take his boots off without a second wasted.

"Sir, what're you..?"

Jack abruptly cut him off by taking a few paces back across the ship, which garnered him more attention than intended. Even his look-out in the crow's nest was staring down curiously, and suddenly, he was sprinting in long strides towards the railing, he quickly used his arms to diligently hurdle himself onto the rail, and push off with one foot.

He was soaring, and then diving into the deep blue waters. A cool rush of water enveloped him and Gibbs just about threw himself over to get a better view.

He watched, slightly panicked, for the young captain to bob his head out, but the moment didn't come and he swallowed, deciding to wait just another second before tying a rope around Marty and sending him diving in after him.

He knew Jack could swim, but why wasn't he surfacing? Were the sea particularly rough? Did he get his foot hung around a rope?

Then, there it was, a black mess of dreads floating around him, and he grabbed the hanging rope with one hand, and floated alongside in the wake. Letting sea water flow over him and around him like a sideways waterfall.

Curious, Elizabeth slowly stood off a barrel she'd been watching from, and made her way next to the first mate and looked down in the sea water, "What on Earth is he doing…?"

"Thinkin'.." Gibbs responded lowly.

* * *

By nightfall, they were there. Shipwreck Island. Jack hadn't spoken a word and now the shining lights and the boats anchored around the island were arousing a nervous sort of fever in him and he couldn't even remove his hands from the wheel.

Gibbs called to him and his eyes flashed, he was the only one left on the ship. They'd dropped anchor what seemed like ages ago and now he had to leave his safe haven, he had to let go of the only thing that felt safe to him. He brushed his hands across the top pegs and finally, with dread in his heart, made his way across the ship with an air of importance, and positioned himself at the front of the dingy.

The silence bothered him, but he couldn't find a voice to change the atmosphere, so he tried to strike up a conversation in his head, for a minute or two, it got boring and suddenly he was trying to spot ships and lighten the mood of the slow boat ride over.

"Oh, look, I see McFleming's ship." Jack spotted, and with a single finger pointed, "He's great. He beats my grandmother with tankards of rum." He laughed inwardly at the memory as did Gibbs, to Elizabeth's horror and everyone else's curiosity.

"Looks like Patri is here too. I thought da' killed him…" He shrugged and went on to the next boat, "Mabel…how nice of her to show up.."

"These are _all_ your relatives?" Will asked, the crease in his brow become deeper by the second.

"It's only the important ones…and of that I'd say it's about half of them. The other half are more or less but probably more likely dead. Good too, I couldn't keep up with whose birthday it was every month…"

Gibbs gave a chuckle and rubbed his beard thoughtfully, "Neither could ye' father remember yours."

Jack's expression of placid worry turned to offense within the time of a gunshot, "That was only half me life, Mr. Gibbs."

The boat soon hit land and there was already loud booming voices surrounding the island. A black man stood in the sand, his arms crossed, "Captain Jack Sparrow?"

"Aye?"

"They've been waiting on you."

"Of course they have." Jack snorted and carried on up the steps, then across the bridge and to the front door.

"Captain Jack Sparrow?"

"Aye?"

"They've been-"

"I know, I know, Mate. Mind just letting us through?"

The man opened the door with a cold gaze and Jack was half-way in when the man said, "Welcome home, Jack Sparrow."

Jack abruptly stopped, looking to him carefully, "This ain't home anymore, Mate."

He stopped in the middle of the foyer, and as everyone gathered behind him, he turned to look down the sides of the cold dank hallways, "I'd expect they'd been in the great room, what say you, Mr. Gibbs?"

"I'd say the noises sound like they be comin' from that general direction. Aye, I'd say you'd be right."

Jack lead them to the right and down two other hallways, once going to the left and then to the right again before arriving to an open doorway when a wall of yelling and screams came to their ears.

Passing through the door, each adult was sitting in a chair. If a captain, behind them was a crew. If not, they were present alone or with other family members they'd gathered.

One last seat was left among the other ten that were seated, and Jack entered the room, followed by his crew as well.

Will looked at each relative, looking more and more like Jack as he continued to compare.

"Why do their crews have to come?" He asked Gibbs quietly over the sounds of members trying to silence each other.

"The Sparrow family is notorious for their mistrust." Gibbs started, shaking his hands as though to prove it were true, "Leaving their crew on their ship would make the said Sparrow look trusting, and therefore, _stupid_. They already pick on Jack for the marooning. It was his trust that caused that."

"They know about that, hm?"

"They know everything…"

Each relative seemed to have a few commonalities: all had long black hair with brown sharp eyes and an even sharper nose, they sat quietly glaring at the last member. Instead of a family, they seemed to be an exclusive club, awaiting the final member with judgmental eyes.

At the very head of the far side of the table, was a woman with greying dark hair and pursed lips, "Where've you _been?"_

Jack's lip twitched and he smiled to hide it, "The sea's were rough." He threw his hands out on either side, demonstrating an _'Oh well' _scenario.

"From here to the horizon it's been like a window pane for days.."

"Ah ha, but I was not _at _the horizon, I was at a much more greater distance away and I'd like to say I got here in record time, I believe. I must've been going a hundred knots. Mr. Gibbs, how many knots must I possibly have been going?"

Gibbs shrugged, opening his mouth to say something before Jack interrupted with, "At least a hundred."

"Jackie, sit down." McFleming murmured, putting his hand to his head in despair to his nephews ramblings.

Jack's smile fell, watching his uncle's features wear thin across his face as the light got brighter in the room, someone had lit a few extra candles.

Jack swallowed and finally, took his seat at the other end of the table, watching his Grandmother's eyes watch his own, but her eyes no longer favored his attention.

He couldn't watch them, remembering the abuse, the sea water in his mouth, his eyes, his cuts across his head. He touched his hat instinctively, and took it off, fingering the edge of the bandanna now.

He played out a scene in his head, that his Grandmama and him were alone, and he'd have tears rushing down his face like when he was young, and he'd rip his bandanna off and show her the scars and point at them and say, _'You see what I have to hide?' _

She'd just end up spitting in his face, calling him a naive child like his mother, and then inquire as to why he'd ever hide them. He should be proud of them, show the world his strength.

But why did he cover up the brand on his arm? Why did he cover up every bullet wound and scratch along his body?

He never wanted others to see the bad memories, because he never wanted to be reminded of them. If he happened to see his reflection, if someone happened to ask about his scars, he'd just be reminded of the bad memories. He never wanted to hold onto those bad memories. He wanted them to disappear, disappear in the black sails of the Black Pearl. In the forgiving yet harsh seas of the Carribean.

He wanted to forget his past, create a future he could look forward to, and leave all his pain in the sand.

He was a sea man now. A pirate.

His grandmother's voice brought him back to the present, "Do you know, why you're here, Jackie?"

"Ehem-…_Captain __Jack_…At any rate, no, I don't have the slightest as to what enormously grand occasion has garnered me the invitation of seeing all of your lovely faces."

"A talker-…just like yer da'…"Grandmama commented, however, she didn't exactly seem thrilled at this.

"Speaking of…" Jack trailed, looking around the room, craning his neck to search the sea, just in case the old bugger was hiding somewhere to make an entrance as he usually would. "…where _is _that codger?"

"In a grave."

Jack leaned backwards slightly, his eyes hesitant and mouth silenced. Would he question it? Was she lying or finally losing reasons to be mistrustful?

She watched his reaction, "Or at least about to be."

"Haha..I see you haven't lost your sense of humor, Meralda."

"_Esmeralda_."

"What a mouthful." He said offhandedly, leaning forward and setting his arms in a folded position on the table, "What's ol' Da' got himself into this time?"

"He's gotten all of us into it!" She yelled, slamming a fist onto the table, standing with thunderous strength you wouldn't expect to see out of an elderly woman, "And I have enough anger to strangle the life out of both of ye'."

"Well, since I know you wouldn't kill your own son, I'd say I'm pretty safe if it's sort of a both or nothing deal."

"Oh, I'll kill you one day, damn it."

"I'm sure you will, but for today, let's talk, before things have to get ugly, _Meralda_."

She took a heavy breath, staring at him, there was obvious hatred, and an obvious story there that no one exactly clung onto, but it was a safe bet to say that the story wasn't a good one full of light-hearted humor and affection.

McFleming sighed, "Mother…Mother, we're all here to undo what Edward's done. Jack's the only one-.."

"I know very well that Jack is the only one."

Jack watched this for a moment before his younger cousin, Jason, stepped from a space in the crowd, "Grandmama, my father said t'at his blood idn't pure enough."

Esmeralda slowly brought herself down into her seat again, unsheathing a knife carefully and twirling it in her hands, "Oh, no…No, his blood is pure, there's no doubting that. Do you see an ounce of unpure blood in him? It's pure…isn't it Mabletrude…?"

"Devil…Devil…" She whispered insistently beside her.

"Hey! Hey, she isn't _exactly _family, you know." Sparrow motioned to her with a finger.

"But she's good use to us." Esmeralda whispered.

"Not to me, I don' like her.."Jack smirked, winking at her, and she cowered back.

"Devi!"

Esmeralda, in a fit of rage, stood again, this time slamming her knife head first into the wood, "Enough.."

It fell silent, and Jack watched her curiously, "What's all this, then? Hm? Meralda? Pure blood, and it's cursed us all and all this lot? What's he done, exactly?"

"He's damned us all." She begun quietly, "Your father went on a fools errand and tainted our blood." She pulled her knife from the table with shifty eyes,"…he went after Davy's Dove."

Ragetti snorted.

Esmeralda turned to him as sharp and as fast as the crack of a whip.

"What's exactly _funny_ about _that_?"

Ragetti looked up and put a hand beneath his wooden eye, "I-I'm sorry, ma'am. But Davy's Dove-…it's nothin' but a lil' song! A children's nursery rhyme, is all."

Jack found it suddenly hard to swallowed, forcing himself to, he turned, "Except, it's not, mate.."

"What is Davy's Dove…?"Will continued, and Gibbs looked to him.

"It's a song that goes on to try and say that Davy Jones once had a pet Dove, given by his sweet heart. Davy's Dove embodied souls that neither went to heaven, nor hell. He let it go one day when they got into a fight. Basically, Calypso gave him the dove so he'd be in power of more than just the damned, but also those who were neutral their whole life. Anyway, he lets it go and it's said, whoever captures the dove and still has some piece of the body of their dead loved one, can get their life back-…at a price…"

Gibbs gave a dramatic pause, scanning the room of the enthralled faces. He fed off their anticipation, and then just as he was about to open his mouth again, Esmeralda spoke, "The price is their remaining family and themselves. Their bound to be cursed for eternity. There are thousands of variations to the song, each has the curse different…"

"What's the real curse then?" Jack asked darkly, his face stone cold and set in it's fixated agitation.

"It's a plague. it's already taking effect in each and every one of us."

The room became uproarious, and Jack's eyes widened, "We're all dying inside!" She yelled as a final hoorah, and Jack shook his head.

"Da' would _never _agree to this… Who'd he try and bring back?"

Esmeralda's eyebrows brushed her eyelashes and she sneered at him, "Quiet!"

The room slowly died down, but it wasn't quiet enough.

"Quiet or I'll shoot every last one of ye'!"

Silence.

She looked back at Jack.

"Yer' father _did _agree to it! And who did he have to bring back so badly enough to throw even _me _in the dirt? That no good daughter of a whore, Maria!"

Jack's teeth clenched, his stomach turned into a knot, and he clamped down on the arms of his chair, he swallowed, closing his eyes.

He imagined ripping her throat out like a savage, strewing her entrails into the sea, or bashing her head against a set of iron bars. How would it feel to her? Would she cry and scream for forgiveness?

He settled the imagination down to a mild dream of revenge by ransacking her home for loot and rum, and came back to the present, where the room was silent, waiting on his response.

"Don't call Maria a whore."

"You never even knew 'er…"

"I _do _know you and I'd call you a worthless wench to any number of people on any day."

"And I know_ you_, and I'd _kill_ you in front of any number of people on any day."

Jack challenged her with his eyes, one hand on his gun, the other still gripping the chair. His finger nails dug into the splintering wood.

"We'll settle this when we aren't both dying." Jack whispered hoarsely, standing from the table.

"We could settle this _now_. Let's come to terms with at least one thing, Jackie. In my opinion, we're all as good as dead. If he'd go as far as to agree to the curse with _my_ life knowingly in the gallows, there's no chance he'll be taking into consideration your life after this. To him…you were nothing but a regretful mistake they made."

Jack swallowed a growl, and smiled, "It's at least worth a shot."

"A wasted shot."

Jack stood, anger evident as he leaned across the table.

"Why did you send for me then?" He yelled, taking his crew back with the clangor of his voice, "You think I'm nothing but a lost cause? Why did you send for me?"

"Originally? To kill you."

Jack watched her carefully as she came around the table, her arms crossed and eyes deep in some shadow that she controlled, they were wide and uncomfortable, but pursued on, "I wanted to do the one thing I hadn't been able to, but always wanted to do. Before I died, after all. But Mabel says you have a chance at undoing this curse."

Jack smiled, his head cocked to the side, "Oh, you always did believe in what she said about me. But I never set fire to your ship, did I?"

"Maybe because I took so many precautions."

"Unless, of course, you never so much as inquired as to _why _I'd ever want to set fire to your precious Wicked Wench."

Esmeralda sighed, turning her head in defeat.

Jack looked to the shaking Mabel, "Mabeltrude…" He smiled, his head cocked to one side with his usual charm, "How exactly should I pursue this new mission of mine, eh? You seem to know it all, done it all. What do I do about all this mess?"

She moved along the side of the crowd, coming in near to him, her hands shook fervently and drew them back, before leaning in close to his ear.

In a whisper, no one could hear, she whispered, "In your dreams…Answers….In your dreams….Answers….In your-"

"It's always lovely to see you, Mabeltrude. But, I really, _must _be on my ways. Nice to see all of you, really. Especially you Grandmama, it's always been wonderful."

And with this, Jack turned on his heel, his smile turning to a deep frown, and left the room, escaping down the halls and in turn, his crew's silent questioning.

On the boat back to the ship, Elizabeth put a hand on his shoulder, and Jack turned, looking her in the eyes with a curiosity, she'd never quite seen before.

He was scared because he didn't know what to do, he didn't know what she was going to ask, and he didn't know if he'd be able to answer.

All of this unusual uncertainty created a doubt within the old pirate and he was nervous.

For once, the great Captain Jack Sparrow was nervous.

But she lessened his fear when she asked one simple question, "Jack…are you okay?"

He mulled over this a couple times. _Was _he okay?

He now learned a variety of facts: He was dying, terminal without a chance as it may would seem. His Grandmama undoubtedly wanted him dead now, more than ever. He was apparently pure blooded, according to his his family, which he'd never dared to further inquire about. He assumed he'd learned enough for one day. And apparently, his father's love which he chose to show occasionally, had never been anything but a lie.

He'd never been loved.

He'd been an accident.

His mother and the sea, were his father's two only loves.

"…'M, fine, Luv." He smiled smugly and turned around.

His eyes deeply set in the water, watching the fish swim around each other in the moonlight, his smile slowly turned into a frown.

"…m' fine…"


	2. Tortuga

**2**

* * *

Jack moved across the deck like a ghost, saying nothing while gliding to his destination. Like a phantom on a mission, he closed his cabin door behind himself.

Gibbs got to the helm, while the crew prepared again to sail, all of them speaking in low whispers as if the infamous Jack Sparrow could hear them through his cabin walls.

Elizabeth bit her lower lip in thought, examining the door that had been closed and locked just seconds prior.

Will was lending a hand with whatever he could, and all them were obviously beginning their usual gossip.

Elizabeth looked to Gibbs.

If anyone, he would know the most. He'd known Jack for longer than anyone else had, and set her own heading as right beside him.

She made her way up the stairs, granting her a wary expression from the first mate, but he knew what was coming.

"Aye, ready to make sail again, Mrs. Turner?"

"As ready as ever, I suppose."

"I'm terribly sorry that our trip has had to make a sudden detour, Jack's apologetic as well, ye' should know."

"Is he? He hasn't _said_ anything."

Gibbs smiled at her just after he opened his mouth to say something, that would've been deemed as _'incredibly stupid' _by the Captain if he'd continued. He recognized her conniving scheme just before he said anything.

"Don't think the Captain would take to hearing me gossip about him very well."

Elizabeth's victorious grin turned into a frown and she put a hand on the railing, "But you can agree he's acting…_strange_.…even for him."

"Aye, he is. But wouldn't you?"

"I'm not sure." She replied honestly, "There's something strange about his..._relatives_… _Other_ than the curse, I mean."

"Hm..Aye, there's a lot of history to be learned with Jack and his family. There's just as much story between him and his relatives as treacherous Barbosa and he. But as I was saying earlier, all and all the same, Jack feels guilty about not getting ye' to yer' set destination."

"Well…he should come over it. I'm up for at least one more round with you bloody pirates."

Gibb's smiled to her and nodded once, "Good to hear it."

* * *

Jack's hand was clenched, in his other hand, his fingers were around the neck of the bottle. His breathing was heavy and he stopped only for a second to breath.

"Stupid goat.." He whispered, "…to the Devil with her!"

He threw the bottle across the room.

"To the Devil with the lot of them!"

Eyes met his and he stepped back a couple paces, meeting the ones that seemed so familiar, yet so far from his memories reach.

He swallowed as he recognized those coal lined eyes and long black dreads, and at first, he had mistaken the figure for his father, just when he realized it was himself.

"To the Devil with _you _especially, mate."

He picked the bottle up another seemingly empty bottle until he felt the weight in his hands. It was filled with rum, or maybe piss. A couple of the crew members had the funny idea of pissing in them sometimes as a joke.

He brought it back, and launched it across the room into the reflection, shattering the mirror across the floor in a thousand pieces.

"Damn you all!"

He took a breath, sighing as he struggled to regain it. He brought his compass out, and traced the edges of it with a flat thumb. Beneath another sash, his fingers found something else familiar.

He slammed the compass onto his table, slowly walking to the window which viewed a most magnificent moon, and he brought the trinket to his eyes in the candle light.

It was a pocket-watch.

He pressed the button to open it, and it flew open. The hands no longer worked and the glass was cracked but the engraving was still there, a lie as always.

"This time, you _will _be on my horizon.."

* * *

"That's…Tortuga." Will murmured, eyeing the island carefully from his spot at the railing.

"Aye." Gibbs said, with an eye set on the sleeping town.

It was mid-day, and the townspeople were just now beginning to wake up. Coming to their senses from a previous night filled with sinful regrets and affectionate hatred.

"It was the Captain's heading. I followed it." Gibbbs replied with a shrug, "I'm figurin' he wants to re-stock the ship before setting out.

Elizabeth's incredulous look matched no one else's, and she turned to the cabin door which hadn't opened since yesterday evening, "He's dying. He's…He's ill! And he _knows_ it, and he…he wants to _restock_?"

Gibbs wanted to say something, but all that came out were non-translatable stutters of mass confusion, and finally, he resulted to a simple shrug.

* * *

_'Jackie__…Jackie, you'll be a pirate like your father.' _

_'No..' _

_'Jackie, take my jewelry when I die, son.'_

_'Mama!'_

_A hand clamped over his eyes, and suddenly it was two years past, sitting in Grandmama Esmeralda's cabin, sitting at the dining table with blood dripping down his nose and a pain blooming from his forehead down to his eye. _

_There was something warm running down his face. _

_Boots clapped against the floor and a man entered, Jack couldn't see the figure, it was just blurred lines and greying colors, but he could feel himself vibrate from his very core. He could feel his sorrow enveloping him. And he could feel his eyes welling up with tears. _

_'Don't cry, Jackie..' His father whispered, as he crossed the floor, his hand on his shoulder. _

_'I'm sorry, son. I'm sorry, son, I don't know why I have to…I just-…' Esmeralda cried from her spot on the floor beside the doorway, she looked at Teague and Teague nodded his head. _

_'Mama, shh…I understand. He's a lot to handle. This…This'll give him character.' He traced the open cut across his forehead with fixated eyes, 'It'll give him strength like it did me, Mama. Your anger is easy to set off, but he'll learn not to. He'll learn punishment. Cause and effect. They're good hard lessons to be learned.'_

_Teague nodded, swallowing, his hand falling to Jack's shoulder again. _

_'I just get so angry with him, and he won't listen. I just have to, to make him learn.' _

_'Mama, I understand. Hush now, you're as good of a mother as ever. I'm sorry it has to be this way…Maria…she…' _

_Esmeralda's eyes shone in the light, 'You said she died in front of Jack?' _

_'It's…I believe it's why he's so reckless and untamable.'  
_

_'Have you ever thought he might've been the one to…' _

_'Never.'_

_Esmeralda swallowed, and Teague gave a second look at his son who was wallowing in his own blood, shivering from the burning cold in his sores. _

_'I have to go now, Jackie. Be good for your grandmama.' _

_'N-No! Da'…Da', please…' He was already walking out the door, '…don't leave me here, Da'…' _

_The scene begun to change just as in his last dream, and his mother was there on the bed, looking at him with sunken in eyes and a wane face. 'It's me or you. Me or you, Jackie. The Dove has to have one.'_

* * *

Jack woke up, a heat he'd never experienced in his life took over his entire body and he pushed the blanket away from himself, his eyes wild and his ears tuning into the noise insistently coming from his cabin door.

_'Thud, thud, thud.'_

"Jack! Mother o' Pearl, Jack, we're here!"

"Just go inside." Will offered.

"There's no telling what you'll see…"Pintel whispered awkwardly.

"_No_ tellin'…" Ragetti echoed.

But honestly, back to the heat, he'd never experienced it. Even on that godforsaken island that he'd been marooned on at least twice now.

He moved off the bed, sweat soaked sheets and all toppling to the floor with him, he took a breath and swallowed, standing up. He looked to his desk, his affects put carefully together in a nice pile, and his shoes strewn across the floor.

He stumbled around for a few moments, managing to put all his leather holsters and guns back onto place along with his shirt, and vest. He moved skillfully to catch his boots, in his hazy mind their were at least four pairs.

He then grabbed his coat, and his hand was just on the handle when it jiggled beneath him. He frowned slightly and released it.

It jiggled again, and this time, he unlocked it between jiggles.

The next time they jiggled it, it flew open to reveal a motley and unsurprisingly embarrassed crew, who quickly attempted to seem innocent and busy.

Gibbs mouth hung open as Pintel cleared his throat and surfaced in a meek voice, "We wasn't doin' nothin', Cap'n!"

"Honest." Ragetti nodded.

"I can see that, mates." Jack replied more to himself than anyone as he closed the door behind himself, locking it with his key as he made it to one of the readied boats that was already stocking up with people.

"I expect this ship to be fully re-stocked by day's end, Mr. Gibbs. You'll be in charge of that."

"Yes, sir." Gibbs nodded once, looking amongst the crew for a sorry loser who'd face the job of re-stocking while the others found wenches and rum.

"Jack, I'd like to point out that I hardly think a trip to Tortuga is necessary when your life is on the line. The ship is stocked to last at least three to four weeks and-"

"Ah, but what _you _may think is three to four weeks worth of rum, may only be a single day for me, lass." Jack replied, dropping down to the dock with light-footed skill.

Elizabeth's mouth hung slightly open and turned to face Will who shrugged, "It's only a day…what could a day hurt?"

"I like the way the eunuch thinks…" Jack called from the dock, grabbing a bottle of rum from an unsuspecting fisherman, who sat, slack-jawed.

Too slack-jawed to even think of picking a fight.


End file.
